


kwid ˌprō ˈkwō

by the_six_fingered_villain



Category: Glass (2019), Split (2016)
Genre: everyone is their worst self, you probably don't want to read this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-10-29 19:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17814329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_six_fingered_villain/pseuds/the_six_fingered_villain
Summary: You probably don't want to read this. Not tagging anything, assume it's horrible, but not in a good way. Poorly written & rambling & dark w/o actually being satisfyingA dumping grounds for all the fragmented little Split thoughts gnawing on my brain. Series of shorts, but brevity is Not My Thing so can't really be called drabbles... Some may be cute/light, some might be attempts to try and worm my way into the mind of a murderous fanatic and writing what I see. The best thing I can say about it is they're mostly in response to fan art or prompts or other pieces of fiction...





	1. Villainess Casey

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off artwork by Tumblr user [jazzytuba](http://jazzytuba.tumblr.com/), as mentioned in [this](https://the-six-fingered-villain.tumblr.com/post/182415096826/based-off-of-the-six-fingered-villain-idea-for-a) Tumblr post...
> 
> I keep joking about "villainess Casey" because in my mind the thoughtlessness of youth makes teens some of the most frightening monsters around... A playful take at feeding Split/Glass into the exaggerated world of comic book villains/what if Casey just

"And then you'll say 'What does that mean?' and then I'll say 'Yeah'-" Casey's voice switched to a breathy, exceptionally girly one "-what does that mean?' and then I'll swoon against you," Casey giggled, draping herself over the unamused looking Dennis "and it'll distract him, and then you'll be able to watch real close and see if he's a bad guy or not."

"First, I think it's foolish that you've convinced yourself that Mr Glass is going to... what... to what-" Dennis, shook his head, still unsettled by the abrupt summonings this evening.

"To offer you a partnership in evil crime," Casey helpfully supplied. "Or, he'll call it a business partnership, but you know, it'll be the same thing." Dennis's head continued to shake, as his frown deepened.

"No, that doesn't make any sense." He shook his head and ran a hand over his scalp, giving her an almost pleading expression. "It's been months since the hospital." The strain in his voice was clear but Casey reached up and gripped his shoulders.

"You broke him out of the hospital, Dennis. That's a lot. I'm sure he's not- still- angry about the whole Tower thing. Come on," she pushed her lower lip out in an almost pout. "Who are you more worried about upsetting? Me? Or him? Because we talked about this- you made the right choice. No mass murder. Right?" Dennis nodded and let himself be pulled into a hug. With a heavy sigh, she wrapped her arms around him and patted him on the back. Her attempt to cheer him up was, again, not working. Rolling her eyes to the wall she saw that their dinner reservation had long since passed.

Rubbing his shoulders, she stepped back and smiled brightly. "You made the right choice, he sees that now, everything will be great. Ok? Elijah Price is not going to kill you, or try to. And if he did, I'm sure you'd win. Now can we please go out to dinner now? I'm starving." Dennis let himself be dragged out of the hotel and down the street, remaining thoughtful and thankfully un-opinionated on on where exactly they went.

"But why are you invited?" he asked, sounding puzzled. Casey turned away from the menu she was examining and blinked at him. "And why do you think I'll be able to tell if he's a `bad guy` or not? What would `bad` even mean?"

"I'm invited because he knows you'd never agree unless I approved," she said with a shrug, turning back to contemplate the options. "I mean, he's sort of saving us a step where you repeat to me everything he's offered and then ask me my advice." She gnawed on her lower lip, contemplating the sides the came with the steak. Glancing over, she caught Dennis, one again, watching her and she flashed him an encouraging smile. "And you'll know if he's a bad guy or not by whether he cares about my swooning. If he doesn't react, then he's a jerk and you shouldn't bother."

 

* * *

 

 

"Yes, well, it is rather sweet of him, isn't it my dear?" Patricia asked, combing out the girl's hair. Casey continued to play with the rose she'd plucked for the second bouquet that day. "Don't you think he might be able to come out now-"

"No," Casey sighed, twirling the flower between her fingers. "No, I think I still don't want to see him." Patricia sighed heavily and continued to play with her hair. What Casey didn't want to admit was that she'd already forgiven him and planned on doing so the next morning. With this latest display of affection and apology, she'd already advanced it forward to this evening. She let out her own sigh, rose spinning now in the other direction as she rolled it back across her thumb. Really, who was she kidding. The Beast was always going to keep getting out and eating some of the neighbors. Well, vagrants really since they didn't have any residential units near by, but still- relatively innocent people. It was unfair to Dennis to expect him to keep the Beast under control all the time. Accidents happen.

She glanced over and caught Patricia's eye. That pleading expression re-ignited Casey's resolve. No! She was going to refuse to forgive him for several more hours, at the very least. If she fell for every elaborate apology she'd loose sight of her attempts to hold them accountable for at least some lingering shreds of decent behavior. Murdering vagrants should not be an easily forgivable offense. Casey huffed, turning away but was unable to put down the rose.

 

* * *

 

 

Mr Glass was monologuing again and Casey tried not to roll her eyes. It'd been months, almost a year, since she last endured a classroom lecture but somehow she always felt like she was back in her 12th grade history class listening to Mr. Thompson rant about the civil war when Mr Glass got into one of his moods.

Gloved hand clenching dramatically as he worked through his feelings about the latest failed heist, Mr Glass added "He keeps slipping through our fingers-"

"You keep telling me to let him go," Dennis interrupted, giving the man a hard look. Casey clapped a hand over her mouth and tried not to giggle. Normally Dennis was so good about letting Mr Glass go on and on, it was a surprise to to hear him actually push back and remind the man of his own self-made problems. "We're never going to succeed in any of these plans," he muttered, arms still tightly crossed across his chest but head nodding towards the various screens mounted about the room- 'the lair' as Mr Glass insisted on calling it. "if David Dunn continues to be a threat. And he going to keep being a Threat unless you let the Beast deal with him. I know for a fact that the Beast had him, had his hands around his throat, and you told him to let him go. Casey showed me the footage."

Elijah turned to stare at Dennis, furious at having his weakness called out so blatantly. "What, would you rather Hedwig come back?" Dennis replied with, irritated.

"Perhaps," Elijah replied with a frown.

 

* * *

 

"Don't you just think the costumes are just a little... extra?"

Casey rolled her eyes and glared at Jade. She didn't want to confess that the comment hurt her feelings, just a tiny bit. Casey secretly enjoyed them. The hours spent with Barry designing them, goofing off with Hedwig while they were supposed to be selecting fabrics, posing in the completed piece under Dennis's critical eye. Mr Glass insisted that they all wear them for Important meetings and no one had seemed inclined to protest too hard. Casey thought the costumes were fun and she thought Jade rather mean spirited to mock them.

"I don't know," was all she said, "I don't mind them."

"Do you think... do you think, when he sees them, he like-" she made a crude gesture and now Casey couldn't for the barest moment think that as well. Wrinkling her nose, she turned away, crossing her arms and huffing. "I mean, he probably had video footage... recorded video footage, if you know what I meant, for the whole complex...."

It was of course then that the doors slid open and Mr Glass wheeled into the room. Casey knew she was blushing but pretended like nothing was wrong. "Yes, Jade, I do have cameras. Everywhere," he drawled, pulling up to the table. "Now you may take that thought and go play with it elsewhere- you were summoned to get Casey and Patricia ready. Your work is done, be gone!" Jade held on long enough to stick her tongue out at them before she swayed and it was Patricia who righted herself. Glancing down, she examined the cuff of her suit and then rolled her wrist to examine the polish upon her nails.

"Not bad," she remarked to herself, and possibly Jade, before she looked up at Casey and Mr Glass, smiling. "Ok then, what's today's plan?"

 


	2. Acolyte Casey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In response to villainess Casey, [hedwigs-window](http://hedwigs-window.tumblr.com/) countered with "Acolyte Casey" and an amazing sketch to back it up. My response was already [posted over on Tumblr](https://the-six-fingered-villain.tumblr.com/post/182648219871/hedwigs-window-all-this-talk-about-villain-casey), but am recording it here so as build up my little collection of nonsense.

Patricia lifted her head and looked towards the hallway. The sounds continued and after a moment she placed her pen between the pages of her journal, shutting the book with the faintest sigh. Hearing this, Casey finally looked up. She held the embroidery hoop she’d been working on close to her chest so Patricia couldn’t see it and ruin the surprise before she added her own sigh. “Do you want me to deal with it?” she offered.

Rubbing at her temple, Patricia smiled and fluttered a hand in her direction. “Would you dear? Dennis had a hard day and the headache lingers on for me now. They’re not helping and,” her mouth turned down in a frown, a look of true worry peeking out there. “If they work themselves up too much I’m worried it’ll upset their digestion, it might lead to… issues.” Casey nodded sympathetically, familiar with the problems that could arise during these tense days between Collection and Offering.

Hitching the sleeve of her nightgown back up onto her shoulder, Casey stood up and tucked the hoop under the throw pillow she’d been leaning on.  Patricia’s outstretched hand caught hers and gave it a gentle squeeze in thanks before she turned back to her journal, lifting the pen once again. Casey crept lightly down the hallway as the cold concrete quickly stole away whatever warmth she’d gained by tucking her toes against Patricia for the last hour. The cries and shrieks coming from the room were still barely comprehensible as she entered the work room.

The offerings had clearly reached the stage of terrified wailing, which was almost a relief. There had definitely been begging when the noise started up a while ago and Casey didn’t think she could have offered to handle them at that time. She tried so hard to be as certain as Patricia but some times… some times when they begged for their life just so she felt herself waiver. And if she wavered, she knew she must confess to Patricia, and she never enjoyed that. It always took days for her disappointment to recede.

Padding on light feet, she was able to reach the door and stand on the other side of it for a moment, listening, preparing herself, while the sounds continued. It was easier when they sounded like this, sounded like animals mad with fear or rage or some animal-like emotion. Drawing herself upright, she reached over to retrieve the small can that lived next to the door and slipped it into a pocket. Her nightgown had slipped, again, but she left her shoulders bare as she reached for the door handle. Patricia always said her marks were beautiful and that they leant her an aura of power and grace. She appreciated that, and she struggled to hold onto the idea of power and grace as she carefully unlocked the door.

The offerings inside immediately cowered away as the door swung open. Thankfully she was met with silence. It was always easier to explain when they were silent. Smiling at each and every one of them, she raised her hands to make a placating gesture. “Don’t worry. Soon you’ll understand. The Beast will make you Pure. Have faith.”

They continued to stare at her, wide eyed and in shock, for a long moment. She smiled again before carefully pulling the door closed and locking it again. Waiting, breath held, she stood there and braced for the sounds to resume. If they did, she’d need to go in and be more forceful. The silence stretched out and she heard soft whispering and then soft crying. Carefully she stepped back, moving noiselessly as they continued to make soft, reasonable sounds on the other side of the door. Patricia was right, as always. If you explained too much, it would just confuse them. Upset them. If you explained nothing, they’d fill the emptiness with what they needed to fight back or to find the energy to scream all night long. If you explained just enough, kindly enough… then everything worked out much better.

Patricia smiled at her as she returned to the living room and patted the space on the couch next to her. Casey hurried over, quickly retrieving her hoop and sat back down. Laying aside her journal once again, Patricia caught her feet before she could tuck them under warm skirts and rubbed them till the feeling returned. “Honestly, you’re like a little forest elf in this concert labyrinth. I’ll never understand why you refuse to wear slippers.”  Casey just hummed happily at the feeling of warm toes and settled in for the rest of the evening. There was still a chance the Beast would show himself tonight, unlikely as it was, so the two stayed up late to kept watch. While she fervently looked forward to the Beast, it was certainly the quite moments like this that helped shore up her faith.

 


	3. That knife scene...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's going on here? I can't even tell... Remember, everyone: Real life and make believe are different things. Kidnapping and torturing people is Bad. But goodness, do I love getting high and trying to figure out what Patricia's thinking.... 
> 
> Anyway, this was in response to "someone" being kind enough to gif this:  
> 
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 

She stood there, watching the girl fumble with items in Barry's corner. There were shears hidden amongst his tailor supplies, dangerous ones, but the child was several drawers off and looked like she could find nothing larger than a pin to defend herself with. How typical. Patricia's back ached from where the chair had struck her and she realized what an embarrassment it was to have been taken by surprised by such a sad, little creature. Really, she was the one to blame for even letting the foolish thing believe it had a chance of escape. It was a common mantra amongst the zookeepers- one mustn't blame the animals for their poor behavior. They were just doing what was in their nature. Patricia simply drew another deep and calming breath, the pain increasing with the rise of her chest and then easing slightly as she exhaled. Lightly she tapped the blade against her skirt and tried to reign in her temper.

"In the sun, we will find our passion," she recited in a clear and calm voice, approaching the child, "In the sun, we will find our purpose." Patricia found the phrase again quite calming and it seemed almost to put a spell on the child. There was no shrieking, no frantic yelling or further hitting with chairs. She shushed the trembling thing when more tears or words were imminent.

The girl looked at her with such an uncomprehending gaze. The frustration Patricia felt compressed and escaped her as an expression of almost sympathy. "You've always been protected," she sighed, shaking her head as raised her hand to lightly rest on the girl's shoulder, holding her in place. "You've never truly suffered, and that's why we chose you," she explained, staring the girl in the eye, willing her to understand. The watery look that she received in turn shone bright with animal fright but nothing else. The knife in her hand brushed lightly against the girl's stomach, almost as an afterthought. She hadn't even realized she'd shifted the blade back to her right hand and it was too easy to hold it just so and further drive the wits from the child.

"You've always been asleep," she sighed, letting the envy drip from her tongue for just a moment. Looking at the frightened young girl before her, she regretted trying to explain anything at all. There was no way for it to truly understand it's role in everything. The girl was nothing more than a frightened young girl, unable to comprehend her position in a world that extended well beyond her small little view of it. Ignorant and hopeful. This girl was everything they were not, there was no way for her possibly to understand.. . . Patricia perceived for a moment why Dennis never bothered to explain the entirety of the situation to them. The poor thing would go mad with fright and try to hurt someone yet only wind up hurting herself. The knife skipped again against the smooth skin of the girl's stomach. Dennis was right, best to keep the lot of them docile, complaint.

"You never had a chance," she cooed to the the girl, letting her feel the edge of the blade once again, every so lightly. The girl trembled, held in place like the prey she was. It was intoxicating to say it, Patricia realized. To voice aloud the inevitability. Patricia shushed the child as the idea of it all seemed to almost overwhelm the little one again. Yes, it was all much better when they just accepted their fate and didn't try to fight it. "You never had a chance," she repeated, smiling encouragingly. She needed the girl to understand and accept that there was nothing to do.

"I... I never had a chance," the girl whispered back, much to Patricia's delight. Nodding approvingly, she raised her hand to caress the girl's head and indeed, the child repeated the idea. The second time her eyes where downcast but her limbs still shook. Patricia tutted, lowering the blade to tap the flat of it against those clasped hands.

"Shhhh, don't tremble so," she instructed. "There's no reason to resist, it'll simply do you no good. You never had a chance." She tipped her head forward, and raised her brows suggestively.

"I- I never had a chance," the girl stammered this time, catching on. Patricia licked her lips, suddenly wanting to hear the girl say she understood, even if she knew the child never could. The hand on her head curled, fingers tangling in that thick hair of hers. Patricia stroked the blade along the side of the girl's arm.

"You've always been asleep," she said, eyes half lidded as she watched those trembling lips. The girl wasn't fast enough in her recitation and so she twisted her fingers in those tangled locks. Full lips turned to the side, tipping as she girl did to follow the pull of her grip.

"I've always been asleep," she gasped, then repeated herself twice more as her hands rose but didn't dare try to free herself. The knife returned once more to prod gently at the girl's navel and Patricia was unable to suppress all traces of her dark amusement at how much the action seemed to terrify the girl. Lip twitching up to a smile, she gazed down at her prey as the panic began to set in. The girl began frantically repeating back a mixture of the phrases, struggling to please her, to do anything to get away from the knife. Her sour mood at the girl's defiance was nearly gone now with this new display of mimicry and supplication. Patricia alternated between stroking the girl's hair and gripping it as she stared into her eyes, willing her to understand.

"P-Please don't kill me," the child of course eventually whispered, ruining it all. Patricia worked her jaw and turned her head to the side in disappointment. The blade slid up almost of it's own accord, slipping between the girl's snug shirt and the smooth planes of her stomach. A strangled gasp was all that escaped the young woman, Patricia's warning look at least making some things crystal clear. Shaking her head, Patricia closed her eyes in frustration. Why couldn't the child just understand?

Opening her eyes, Patricia found the girl's expression unchanged, only the volume of tears leaking down her cheeks marking the passage of time. With a heavy sigh, she shook her head. "I don't understand why you refuse to see how it must be," Patricia huffed, sliding the knife further up under the girl's shirt, her knuckles grazing the fluttering stomach. "Don't you 'please' me again," she warned, as the girl opened her mouth. That lower lip trembled and Patricia wondered if that's why Dennis had chosen her. Again, she rolled her wrist, fist tightening in the girl's hair and she watched as slender neck arched and curved.

A flash of frustration lanced through her and Patricia again let the blade creep up further. Her grip tightened and she drew the girl up, pressed closer. Her frustration with the young woman washed over her again, even as the girl bent obediently under her hold and tried to whisper a weak "I've always been asleep."

"You weren't asleep when Dennis asked you to dance, now were you?" she hissed, pushing the girl away from herself suddenly in disgust. The girl of course collapsed to the floor though there was no need for such dramatics. She began to sob and beg, on her knees no less, and Patricia felt nothing but frustration and contempt.

"Dennis wasn't good enough for you so you'd rather piss yourself than dance for him but me? You'll throw yourself at me so easily?" Patricia shook her head in frustration and pointed the knife at the cowering youth. "You're pathetic, stop your wailing at once," the girl immediately clapped a hand over her mouth and stared at her wide eyed, still nothing but fear in those doe eyes of hers.

"Take off your shirt," Patricia snapped, gesturing with the blade and planting herself before the young woman. With trembling hands, the girl tentatively did so, drawing the tight knit top over her head and revealing no surprise beyond which shade of blue bra she wore. She looked the girl up and down cooly, drawing satisfaction that she could do so with such restraint. "See, Dennis," she said, lifting her chin. "It's not difficult if you just have a firm hand. Really, you allow yourself to get so caught up in it all."

Pacing slowly around the trembling child she tutted softly. "Honestly, I don't see why you let yourself get so carried away," she said, raking her gaze up and down the girl's form. "Absolutely no reason to get so worked up...." Drawing a shuttering breath, she turned and looked away, a hand raising to brush fingers against her neck. "And for such a terribly behaved child. I question your judgement some times, Dennis," she murmured, stealing another look back at the girl. Head hung in seeming defeat, there was still that blasted trembling. "I really do."

"You've scared her too much," Dennis's rough voice welled up from her throat as she allowed him to speak. "You've gone too far," he said, daring to criticize **her** in regards to the treatment of their offerings. With a firm shake of her head, Patricia glared at the girl for lack of Dennis to be furious at. "What does that even mean?" she hissed, sweeping forward. With a flourish, she placed the tip of the knife under the child's chin and turned her face towards her. Pursed lips and a dramatic arching of the eyebrow made it clear what she wanted.

"I've always been asleep, I never had a chance," the girl breathed out in a shaky voice, trembling as she looked about. Patricia's disgust intensified, surely she couldn't be confused about Dennis and herself. Was the idiot child still trying to escape?

"Just because she says the words, doesn't mean she understands them," Dennis again spoke to her, through her. This time his voice had quite the mournful note to it. "You can't make her understand, Patricia." Lifting her chin, Patricia angrily looked about the room. She had the distinct impression that the conversation had suddenly shifted and they weren't just discussing the girl before them. Shaking her head, she fidgeted with the knife.

Looking down at the blade and then the terrified girl before her, Patricia felt the situation may have spiraled slightly out of her control. What she had before her was the sacred food Dennis had worked so hard to collect, that they had spent so long preparing for. She was to be a shepherdess for this flock till the season of slaughter, not... defile them like some desperate, deprived farm hand. Just because it was so easy, it all so very easy to indulge in did not mean she should give into temptation. That sort of weakness was exactly what she'd scolded Dennis for and pride locked her in place as she wrestled with warring desires.

It helped that the child broke down sobbing, slowly curling in on herself. Head bowed, shirt clutched to her chest, her whole body shook with the intensity of her fear and Patricia couldn't help but sigh in disappointment. Truly, this little creature wasn't worth getting so worked up over. She could never understand. It'd been so nice to hear what she wanted, but Dennis was right. She was letting herself get distracted over the mindless recitation that something as simple as a parrot could do.

Sighing in resignation, she bent down and collected the spray of baby's breath she'd tucked into the girl's hair earlier and which had fallen out somewhere during her indulgences. Thankfully the little blossoms hadn't been crushed under the girl's panicked shifting and Patricia smiled as she carefully tucked the sprig back in amongst those dark tresses.

With terse commands and several gestures with the knife, she was able to drive the child to her feet and then down the hall, stopping a moment to collect the tool basket. Thankfully she was spared any further pleading as she guided her into the room and set at about bolting the door. The first, horribly behaved child of course began to start up her shouting at the sound of the drill. Patricia sighed, and was thankful for the loud whirl of the motor as she secured the lock in place, driving one screw in at a time. Briefly she closed her eyes and paused for a moment, the screw burying into the wooden frame just another straw, threatening to break her back. Once the child she was secured, she'd yield the Light to Dennis she decided. While she was strong enough for many things, for their purpose and mission, she knew that one person alone could not bear the weight the world seemed to bring down upon them. Best to let Dennis handle some of the burdens so that she could focus on what was important.


	4. Chapter 4

"Tell me," Patricia whispered, leaning in as if a secret was about to be shared between the two. "Who is it for?"

Jade drew back in surprise and confusion at the out of the blue question. "What?"

"The poison," Patricia clarified in a hushed voice even though Jade had not bothered to lower hers. "Who we're you thinking of poisoning? Shelly?"

Jade stared at the woman for a moment and then quickly looked about the circle. The other thirteen alters did not seem to be paying them any attention but Jade felt herself break out in a light sweat none the less. "I- I don't know what you're talking about." Patricia arched a brow as she tilted her head, making a rather dramatic 'oh come now' expression though she only pursed her lips in reply. "I- really, no clue. I don't want to hurt anyone..."

"I overheard you telling Barry you wanted to punch Jessica's teeth down her throat," Patricia revealed and Jade's embarrassment sharpened into frustration.

"That was a private conversation," she snapped. Once again Patricia seemed to know a little more than she should and it creeped the girl out. "Also, that was, like, an expression. I was- I wasn't serious." She almost added 'I'm not Dennis' but remembered how often she'd seen the pair together, heads bowed and whispering just like the two of them were doing so right now. Jade immediately straightened up but Patricia just leaned in closer.

"You can trust me," she murmured in an almost friendly tone. "I won't tell anyone, I'm just... curious. I know you were looking, the browser history has time stamps you know." Jade again turned back to the older woman, a horrified expression on her face. With a smile Patricia seemed to wait patiently for her confession.

"What the fuck?" Jade hissed, now dropping her voice to a strangled whisper as she fought the urge to scream at the woman. Barry had warned her that Patricia could be nosey and bossy but she hadn't been expecting something like this. "Fuck you! That's, like, invasion of privacy! I thought we respect each other's time and space?" Looking around frantically, wishing Barry sat closer with perhaps the thought he'd help, Jade unfortunately caught the eye of Dennis. She'd only been part of the group for a couple months now but already the guy seriously creeped her out and Jade quickly dropped her eyes to the floor, hoping he'd stay out of their discussion. The early alters always seemed to stand up for each other and were always quick to pick fights with the newer members of the group it felt like.

There was a soft chuckle next to her and again Jade felt a spike of irritation that overshadowed her embarrassment, mixing instead with her indignation and frustration with the lot in life she'd been dealt.

"Don't worry," Patricia assured her with another soft whisper, "your secret is safe with me. I was just checking the history before clearing it. I look out for everyone, equally, I assure you. Why I know a number of things about several individuals that would be... quite scandalous." Risking an angry glance at the woman, Jade found her wearing a rather self satisfied smirk. A quick wink was offered before Jade could look away in disgust. "But I'd never tell," she repeated, leaning again towards the girl, their knees brushing.

"I wasn't- I'm not- I'm not trying to poison someone," Jade muttered, arms crossed defensively as she tried to shield herself with honesty without letting the nosey witch know everything. "Yeah, sure, I hate half the bitches at school but, like, I'm not a psycho, I don't want to... to actually hurt them..." The words were hard to say and Jade swallowed thickly to stop herself from saying more. Shelly really was a bitch and the fact that Kevin apparently really liked her just made everything worse. Jade was pretty sure the girl was the reason Luke, the latest addition, had shown up and the whole situation frustrated her beyond words. If Kevin wanted help talking to girls he should be listening to her advice. She was the actual girl here. Instead, Luke had appeared and now Kevin spent most of his time snickering on the other side of the space, seated between Dennis and Luke, the three of them always clamming up the moment someone asked what was going on.

The sympathetic expression on Patricia's face gave her pause the next time she glanced over. "I- I'm not trying to kill anyone," Jade explained, further words catching in her throat. There was no reason she had to explain herself to this woman... But it suddenly occurred to her that maybe she could. That maybe Patricia would understand. Licking her lips, Jade glanced around the circle, noting how Bernice sagged in her chair, slack jawed and snoring, and Norma seemed caught up in telling Hedwig a story.

"I know that, child," the gentle murmur was heavy with sorrow and understanding. "The modifications to your search made that quite clear. You just want someone to hurt, hurt just the right amount, and... well, I might understand that." Surprised, Jade blinked at the woman and felt her throat close up. "I just wish you would trust me." Patricia reached over and patted her knee. "We are all in this together you know."

Dennis was staring again and while it would have normally just creeped Jade out, the fact that he caught her with tears in her eyes frustrated her further and she made an unhappy sound, looking away from everyone for a moment to scrub at her face. She heard an angry tisk and the woman next to her made a sharp hand gesture that Jade didn't quite catch. When she turned back around, eyes dry again, she found Dennis pointedly facing away, arms crossed and looking like he was almost sulking.

"Don't mind him," Patricia added, still whispering as she reached out to lightly take Jade's hands in her own.

"I wasn't trying to poison anyone," Jade whispered, hating how her voice wobbled. "It... it... I was looking for me." The hands clasping hers spasmed slightly as Patricia's eyes widened. "It's- not like that." When she tried to pull her hand back, Jade was somewhat surprised to feel Patricia hold tight. Rather than make a scene, she let the woman keep ahold of her and looked away instead. "I'm not trying to kill myself- kill us. I understand how- how it works. I just...." She drew a deep breath and expected Patricia to lecture her about Kevin's safety or that their 'body was a temple' but there was just silence and a firm grip upon her hand that did not waiver or release her.

"I just wanted to know, you know?" Jade eventually continued, voice so low she wondered if Patricia could even hear her. "The- the fight with Shelly yesterday, when she called Kevin a creeper and a perv... It- it was because I was eavesdropping on them. They were talking about their periods and how bad Shelly's cramps hurt." Jade pressed her lips together, fighting a wobbly lip but couldn't help it when a bit more slipped out. "All of them were talking about it and complaining about how much it hurt. All of them, and Amber-" The girls had taken to trying to one-up each other with lame analogies of how much it hurt. Someone compared it to being stabbed, another swore it was worse than food poisoning, and someone else mused that there was no way giving birth could be worse than this because how then would anyone have kids?

There was no way Jade was going to say another word but it seemed like Patricia was content to just sit there holding her hand in silence. Relative silence that was, she could hear Hedwig's excited laughter at something Norma said and it was enough to shake her out of it a bit. If she sat here holding hands with Patricia for too long people might think she was weird or something and Jade looked back at the woman, wondering how she'd get her hand back.

The sympathy and sadness she found staring back at her didn't make anything better. Instead, Jade just felt herself tear up again and her lip began to wobble. She didn't really even know why. She was pretty sure Patricia had never considered poisoning herself just so she'd know what it'd be like to have cramps. "Oh you poor child," was all Patricia eventually said as she gathered the girl into a hug and stroked her hair. Unable to help herself, Jade buried her face in the woman's shoulder and tried to hide as she let a couple broken sobs escape her. She couldn't hear Hedwig any more and she was certain everyone was staring. Everyone was staring and there was no where to go, no where to escape to except into the Light and even then that wan't really an escape, she'd still be trapped in Kevin's body.

"It's not ok," Patricia murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of the girl's head. "It's not ok, but it is what it is. It is what it is. We are what we are." Jade drew a shuddering breath and let a sob loudly escape her. "We are what we believe we are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story brought to you by terrible cramps, my never ending horror at the gender dysphoria in Split, and a kind [nyctigamous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyctigamous/works) Googling poison questions for me because that's what friendly people do.


End file.
